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Create Your Own Story

Hi Folks! Jeremy and I would love to hear your stories. Please write a story in the comment area below, or you can send direct to me using jenelle@sex270.com.

You do not need to identify yourself but you can if you wish. Your story can be a true memoir, how-to information, fiction, or whatever you want. It would be great if you could let us know whether it’s true or fiction, however. It can be from any perspective.

The length can be anything from a sentence to a complete ebook.

If you’d like to include video or pictures, that would be great. Email them to Jeremy.

Please don’t send any copyrighted material unless you are the owner.

We can’t pay anything for your submissions, and do not guarantee to publish every one, but we’ll do our best to publish anything that’s of reasonable quality.

Swinger Memoir

I’ve been involved in swinger activities for a number of years. When my wife and I first started, it was with a like-minded neighbor couple. We used to get together with this other couple frequently and socialize. Despite being very close friends, the subject of trading wives had never come up.

But one evening we were visiting at their house and we all had a bit too much to drink and it just happened. I had gone into the kitchen to freshen my drink and when I came back to the living room, my wife was sucking Larry’s cock. My initial reaction was a fit of rage but as I saw her lips caressing his throbbing penis I got strangely turned on. Melissa, Larry’s wife, called to me and I walked over to her, unable to take my eyes off of my wife Sandy’s bobbing head. As I continued to stare, Melissa unzipped my pants and pulled out my hardening penis. She peeled back my foreskin and sucked the head into her mouth.

Before the night was over I had fucked Melissa twice and although my attention was diverted from what Larry and Sandy were doing, I’m pretty sure he shagged her at least three times. She told me later that he had even fucked her in the ass, something I had never done with her.

The funny thing about the whole experience was that after the last cum, all four of us lay naked on the bed together and talked about how much fun we’d all had. No recriminations and no hard feelings. Even as we lay there and talked, Sandy continued to fondle Larry’s now limp penis and I gently stroked Melissa’s wet clit.

This was the beginning of our swinger life. We managed to get together with Larry and Melissa a couple of times a week. It was always the four of us together. There was something about sharing the experience that really made it enjoyable. I’ve never been able to fully understand it but it gave me great joy to see Larry’s erect prick slamming into Sandy’s wet cunt. As our meetings progressed I learned how much fun it was to suck another man’s cock while the two women lapped each other’s pussies. One of my favorite things to do was to literally pull Larry’s cock out of my wife’s pussy and suck her juices off of it. Larry had a really nice cock and when he got hard it was like a bar of steel. I grew to love his dick as much as I loved his wife’s sopping wet cunt. And he sucked mine with equal enthusiasm.

Our love of swinging sex with Larry and Melissa led us to wonder what it would be like to broaden our experience. Larry had learned about a swinger club that operated in our town. It was in a very large, but old mansion. Two lesbian women owned the house and held swinger parties there about every third week. It was by invitation only and no singles allowed. I never did know exactly how Larry got us an invite but he did.

There was a fee to attend but the house supplied condoms and lube as well as snacks and drink mix. Plus clean linen on the beds. If you wanted the hard stuff you had to bring your own. Fresh, clean white towels were in abundance for clean-up purposes and there was always a need for clean-up. By the end of an evening at the club, a generous amount of cum and pussy juice had been secreted.

The house rules stated that men had to be totally naked. Sandals were supplied for your feet. Women were allowed to wear teddies or a loose cover up but after the first hour or two pretty much everybody there was naked. I suspect that the invitations were limited to a certain age group. My estimate is the age of the members ranged from about 30 to 45. And everybody was quite fit. Other rules were you were free to invite anyone to have sex with you but “no” meant “no.” Anybody who was overly pushy was asked to leave, never to return. I only saw one couple ejected and surprisingly it wasn’t the guy who broke the rule but it was his wife who constantly pestered one of the male members who had politely refused her advances on numerous occasions.

On our first few visits Sandy and I had kept our sexual activities limited to Larry and Melissa. But at one point, an extremely good looking guy, with a very impressive erect penis, had approached Sandy. I could tell she was immediately interested. She looked at me with a question in her eyes and I slightly nodded.

The house layout had two main large rooms that had originally had been the living and dining rooms. It also had a large number of bedrooms. Although the large rooms were more of a communal meeting area, some sex occurred there. I’ll be honest, I was totally shocked when Sandy and the new guy, who I later learned was named Rex, wasted no time whatsoever. They sat down together on a couch and within minutes she was sucking his large dick and that quickly led to her laying back while Rex shoved his dick in her pussy. She had her legs up over his shoulders and he pounded away with a real frenzy. They ended up spending the entire evening together going off into various rooms. She told me after we got home that he had fucked her five times and she sucked him off twice more. She admitted it was the best sex she’d ever had.

Now you would think I would be upset hearing that. But truthfully, I was just happy for her. As we had sex with more and more different partners, we both learned that it made us happy when our significant other had a great experience. Sandy and Rex fucked on a fairly regular basis but slowly the novelty wore off and she tried out other partners. I had a few women who I was partial to and they were to me, and we regularly had sex together. Sometimes just the two of us and sometimes with a third or fourth partner, usually including my wife and/or Larry and Melissa.

There was a surprising amount of male to male and female to female sex that occurred. In my younger days I had always assumed that same sex action occurred only between gays but my eyes were opened to the fact that almost every person there was bi-sexual. They just enjoyed sex and it didn’t matter what the partner’s gender might be. Then one thing occurred that I thought I would never do. Sandy and I were in a foursome with another couple. They were a bit younger than we were. She was very cute with a perfect body. The guy was in great shape but had a relatively small penis. Probably about 5-1/2” long and slim. Actually that is about the average penis length but I had noticed that as a group, most of the club members had larger than average cocks.

Anyway, I was fucking his wife Marie in the missionary position while Sandy sucked his dick. I wasn’t paying too much attention to them when I felt fingers wiping some lube on my asshole. Before I totally realized what was happening, John was penetrating my ass with his hard cock. It slid right in and although I had always said I would never let anybody fuck me in the ass, it actually felt really good. My wife knew of my aversion to being ass-fucked and was getting quite a kick out of me having a dick up my ass. I learned later that she put him up to it. She figured with his small size that it wouldn’t be that difficult to penetrate my ass.

I have to be honest, the sensation of my hard cock pumping Marie’s tight pussy while John thrusted his cock in and out of my rectum was almost more pleasurable than anyone had a right to expect. It wasn’t that long before I felt John’s cream spurting in my asshole and that triggered my orgasm and I flooded her cunt with a major cum load. Then as John pulled his cum covered cock out of me, Sandy grabbed his dick and sucked it clean while Marie did the same thing to me.

After we got home that’s all we could talk about. We relived the experience over and over. I sucked her clit to several orgasms and she coaxed another one out of me with her expert oral action. That led to a few days later her ordering a strap-on online. The cock on the strap-on was bigger than John’s and it took a bit of getting used to by me as it was initially a bit painful. I never understood what a woman gets out of using a strap-on but she said it gave her a feeling of power and that she usually had an orgasm. She had become extremely orgasmic as our sex experiences expanded, so I didn’t doubt that fucking me could make her cum.

She took the stupid thing to the club and she talked both Larry and Rex into letting her fuck their ass as well as several other willing club members. There was one guy in particular who really got off on her fucking his ass. He would get on all fours as she knelt behind him and fucked away. You could see his big hard dick dangling down and after ten minutes or so of her banging away, huge streams of jism would spurt from his dick. This became the talk of the club and it got to where they would do it in one of the main rooms with many members grouped around watching. The guy admitted to Sandy that her strap-on gave him the best orgasms of his life. Any time we were at the club and he showed up, he would beg her to fuck his ass. And she would. I told her she should start charging him a fee.

There was one gal who I was particularly taken with. She was probably the youngest woman there and was only 23 or 24. Her husband was older. Maybe 35. She had a very athletic body which I find especially attractive and a terrific set of real tits without any sag at all. She had a beautiful face and of course was in great demand but she was very particular about who she had sex with. Fortunately I was one she liked. Sandy used to tease the hell out of me about Gina preferring me over some of the studs that were members. Gina and her husband didn’t come regularly, maybe every other couple of months. But when she was there she always looked me up and I was only too happy to oblige. But the odd thing was, her husband did not want her to fuck anybody. Only blowjobs or handjobs. She preferred blowjobs. In fact she once told me she would rather suck a dick than fuck one. I don’t know if that was true or if she was just sticking to the party line.

No matter. Whatever the truth was, the girl sure loved to suck a cock. She gave, without a doubt, the best blowjobs I’ve ever had. It’s hard to describe exactly what she did that made her blowjobs so good. Part of it was she literally worshipped my cock the whole time she was licking and sucking it. To her, it was like my cock was the only thing that existed in the world. She would pull her lips off of it and then stare at my dick like it was the most wonderful thing in existence. She was also adept at deep throat. I’m only about 7-inches so it wasn’t a major feat to deep throat me but the frosting on the cake was as she took my entire length, her tongue would flick out and lick my balls.

On several of the times when she sucked me off, Sandy would be there just watching. Not participating in any way because she didn’t want to be a distraction. But she was hoping to learn what this girl’s secret was because I had raved about the quality of her blowjobs. And it paid off. Sandy became the second best cocksucker in the world. She never fully approached Gina’s competence level but came close enough to make me happy. Even Larry commented about how great her blowjobs had become.

I know it’s probably hard for some of you to believe, but our swinging lifestyle has really cemented our relationship. I love Sandy with all my heart but there’s nothing wrong with mind-blowing sex with other partners. Feeling those spurts of cum go down some stranger’s throat or vagina makes living really worthwhile.

That’s it for now.

Relieved – Unintentional Lesbian Action

Relieved, unintentional lesbian action

I was masturbating in by dorm one afternoon while my roommate was at a class, and I started freaking out. I was putting my finger in my vagina, and just doing that thing where one rubs her g-spot. I started noticing the inner wall of my vagina was feeling granular, kind of rough-like. I hadn’t noticed that before. I started to think it wasn’t normal, like there was something terribly wrong with me.

When Cheryl came back from her class, I was just busting to find out whether this was normal, or whether I had a big problem. At the same time, it was a very private and embarrassing matter. But who else to ask about it?

I asked her to sit on her bed while I explained my discovery, which of course involved admitting that I masturbated in the room when she wasn’t there. I’m sure I was red in the face as I stammered out the details. I asked whether that internal texture is normal. She replied that she didn’t think so, but didn’t really know.

Calm as a cucumber, she said that when she puts a finger in her vagina, it seems smooth. This was a big admission on her part, if you ask me. I mean, who matter-of-factly tells her roommate about feeling inside their own vagina?

Cheryl could see that I was still worried. “I know it’s weird, but do you want me to feel inside there, and let you know?”

I didn’t like the idea, not one bit, but it was better than worrying all evening. Maybe not getting any sleep. Maybe worrying for days, and then having to see a doctor about it? Was I going crazy? Maybe. In any case, I had to find out about this problem.

“Ok” I said in a small voice.

“Really?” she responded. Was her voice a bit shaky?

It took us a couple awkward moments while we figured out exactly what to do. Both of us were trying to keep it entirely clinical. Like, a roommate putting her finger in a girl’s puss is no big deal, right?

She had me get naked on the bed. Why entirely naked, I don’t know, but I didn’t fight it. She then sat on the edge of the bed, got some oil on her finger, and pushed it slowly, ever so slowly, into my vagina. It probably felt good, but I was still too freaked out to notice. It was my first experience ever with having someone inside me. I had never been to a gynecologist, and my regular doctor never did anything of that sort except check my breasts for lumps.

She pressed all around on my front vagina wall before she finally announced, “So far as I can tell, it’s just like mine.”

I wasn’t convinced. She could see that. She then said, “Here, why don’t you feel inside me, and see if it’s the same?”

I was reluctant, but I figured it would give me the answer, once and for all.

She got naked. Even in my current agitated state, I noticed how beautiful Cheryl is. I put oil on my index finger, and plunged slowly into her. It was the first time ever I had put my finger in another woman’s vagina. Anyway, I did feel around, and sure enough, she had the same texture inside.

I was so fucking relieved!

I kept my finger in Cheryl longer than necessary, for some reason. Actually, I know the reason. Somehow, it felt very, very nice to be doing this with Cheryl. I loved the feeling of her warm, inner canal. The way it surrounded my whole finger.

But of course enough is enough. It was time to pull out, before she started thinking I was… what? Lesbian or something? Figuring it might be shocking to just pull out all at once, I started pulling my finger out very slowly.

“No, wait!” she almost yelled, continuing with, “I have to tell you, that feels absolutely remarkable! Will you please keep your finger in me for a moment?”

I was all for it. First I held still, then I started rubbing that magic spot. Cheryl was literally shaking, jittering on the bed. She started moaning softly, then it hit. She had a giant orgasm!

After a minute of recovery, she got up, and told me to take her place on the bed. She put her finger back in me, and gave me a shattering orgasm the same way.

Then, the unthinkable happened. She climbed into the little bed with me, kissed me long and hard and hugged me until we fell asleep together.

Massage Guy

Unexpected sexual massage from a guy

I consider myself fairly typical, and shy away from weird stuff. Normally.

I worked in a call center supporting accounting software. At the next desk sat a guy who was rather outrageous. Between calls, we’d talk, and he’d shock me with his exploits, many of which I suspected were made up. He had no qualms about letting me, and everyone in the office, know he’s bisexual, enjoys masturbation, and all the things a person would admit, if one felt one could.

His conversations frequently came back to this man he talked about. He was some sort of massage practitioner. He did what were called ‘men’s invigorating massages.’ Evidently, there was some penis handling involved. My coworker kept telling me I ought to check this practitioner out.

Because it was the last thing on earth I’d ever do, I started thinking about it. Couldn’t get it out of my mind. I started telling myself that perhaps I’m too shy, too conservative, too stuck in the mud, so maybe, just maybe I should… No, that’s crazy.

So, I’m sure you guessed by now that I went to the practitioner. His office was I suppose normal for a massage practitioner. I’ve never had any sort of professional massage, so I had no idea what to expect. The guy was short, balding, clean-shaven, and probably in his late fifties. Not exactly a sexual god. He had a nice smile and an inviting manner, however, so I figured the massage wouldn’t be horrible. But why was my heart beating a hundred miles per hour?

He had me strip totally naked. Already my shyness was making me really nervous, and my heart was still beating fast, but I did as he said. Then he had me lay face down on his table, and he put a small towel over my butt.

He started with what I assume was a normal massage of my neck, shoulders, upper arms, lower arms, feet, ankles, calves, and thighs. Then he simply took the towel off my butt, so I was laying entirely naked on his table. He massaged my butt, and it felt rather nice. In fact, the whole massage felt nice. I decided that I might like massages.

He commanded me to roll over, dropping the towel across my crotch area, and massaged the front of me in the same way. The whole thing, front and back, couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes. I would have figured it was over, but of course I had remembered my coworker’s conversation. He didn’t come right out and say this man would manipulate my genitals, but pretty well indicated that would happen.

Oddly, I was hoping so. Looking forward to it. In fact, I was dreading the possibility that my friend had made it up, or that this practitioner would only do his special treatment for established clients, or something like that.

I needn’t have worried. After stopping to put some more warm oil on his hands and pull the little towel off me, he then nonchalantly lifted up my scrotum. Then he started massaging and pulling on the skin of my ballsack with his oily hands, letting it slowly slip through his fingertips. I had never in my life felt such a thing. My penis became instantly hard.

It felt a bit naughty, like having an erection was somehow wrong under such circumstances. On the other hand, it was entirely out of my control. I’d like to see you stay soft with that happening to your scrotum.

The man continued, but he was sort of catching my balls in each grab of my scrotum. He’d reach higher up, lightly pinching each testicle between thumb and forefingers, then pull slowly downward, until the testicles slipped away like a wet bar of soap, leaving him holding a pinch of empty scrotum in each hand. He repeated it several times, each time getting firmer and firmer.

I was about to stop him, telling him it was hurting, but then decided the slight pain he was causing was far outweighed by the amazing good feeling it was generating.

He quit doing that all too soon, even though it was probably a full eight or ten minutes.

Suddenly, he grabbed my fully erect penis, and rubbed an oily palm directly across the tip. I practically jumped out of my skin. If you’ve never had that done, it’s something you’ve got to experience! Yes, it made me jump, but there was something exquisite about it.

The treatment went on about another twenty minutes. I’d get several seconds of the testicle massage, followed by just a second or two of that glans rubbing thing. Then he’d stretch the skin of my penis downward – firmly. It almost hurt, but not quite. On several occasions, I started feeling that ‘gonna cum’ feeling. I was concurrently embarrassed at the thought of ejaculating in another man’s hands, very much looking forward to ejaculating, and resigned that it would happen.

But it didn’t. Every time I got close, the fellow changed to another technique. Finally, he stood up from his stool, patted me on the right shoulder, and said, “All set, Mr. Kowalski.”

Weird, eh? I so wanted to have an orgasm at that moment. Instead, I dressed, paid the man, thanked him profusely, and drove home. I didn’t have a chance to jerk off for the rest of the evening, and I though it would practically kill me. It didn’t. Instead, I felt more alive, more energetic, more charged up than I had in a long time. I played basketball with my kid in the driveway, something I hadn’t done for way too long. I chatted with my daughters and my wife. I’m sure they had no idea why I had become so lively.

I tried to get sexual with my wife when we went to bed, but she wasn’t having it. So, I rolled on my back, and jerked off, having a glorious orgasm while she complained I was shaking the bed.

I stayed charged up, at least to a minor degree, for several days afterward.

I’m sure you know I booked another appointment with the little guy a couple of weeks later. In fact, I had seen him about six times during the next couple of months.

I’m not one to keep secrets, so eventually I reluctantly told my wife about the massages, cringing all the way through. I was hoping she wouldn’t be mad. I mean, she could get really, really mad. Then I’d have to explain to the kids why I’m sleeping on the sofa. But no, to my surprise, she said, “Good honey, it takes the load off me.”

She didn’t want details. I wanted to tell her everything, but she didn’t want to hear it. However, she insisted that I no longer book appointments every two weeks. She wanted me to book weekly appointments, and even offered to pay for every other one.

As to my coworker. I never told him I’ve been seeing his massage guy. Much has changed in my life, but one thing hasn’t: I’m still shy about discussing my sex life in the office. But secretly, I thank him for introducing me to a whole new world.

Naked Miners in the Shower

Naked miners in the shower

I thought after the military, I’d get a good job in the electronics industry. Nope, wasn’t happening. Evidently no one needs a guy who can fix telemeters in army tanks.

So, I took a job in a mine as an ordinary laborer. From what I could tell, things hadn’t changed in 100 years, at least not in my mine. I did a late shift, and we all came out of the mine dusty and dirty at 2 in the morning. But one thing was certainly different: We had showers. We didn’t have to go home dirty. I figured out right away to keep a separate change of work clothes for the mine, and my clean street clothes in a locker.

Now, this shower was not like what you might imagine. In fact, my first day was absolutely shocking. In the showers, although the guys were tired, and I was especially tired from not being used to the work, I was amused to see all the guys carrying on, telling jokes, laughing, just good old buddies having a great time. But after a couple of minutes, I began to notice the really crazy part. Some of the guys were soaping up each others backs, lower legs, and even their butts. My first thought was that was just way too gay for me. But the shocking part was just beginning, as I saw one guy turn around, and he had a full erection as his coworker was soaping up his upper thighs. Seeing that, I had a surprising little tingle in my own lower stomach, and lower down, too, if you know what I mean.

And then, his buddy started soaping up his hard penis. I mean, he was literally stroking the guy with a soapy hand! As I looked around, even though the large, open shower room was kind of dark, I was amazed to see similar things happening through the room. In one case, a big heavyset miner was on his knees giving a short skinny guy a blow job. Really!

I was under a corner shower head, and no one came near me. I was glad. First, I had this notion, drilled into me in the army as much as marching had been drilled in, that anything remotely like ‘gay’ was just wrong. I had wondered about that in a way, intellectually, but went with the flow. I mean, really, what’s wrong with gay, and for that matter, where do you draw the line? My dad kisses me on the cheek sometimes. That’s not gay, right? I saw a couple of European guys who were holding hands, and it sickened me, until I noticed that their wives and kids were walking right along with them, and the two women were holding hands too. You go to the doctor. He feels your balls looking for lumps. Your dick puffs up a bit. Is that gay? I certainly hope not.

So, I sure as hell didn’t want any part of the shenanigans going on in that shower room. I even wondered if I’d have to quit that job because it was just too weird. But then, too, I was dog-tired from my first day. I wouldn’t have had the energy to do anything. Hey, what was I thinking? I wouldn’t want to do any of that stuff, right?

I’ll bet you know where this is going. You are correct! I kept the job. I needed the money. I talked with the guys. Most were older than me. So far as I could tell, I was the only one who wasn’t married, and evidently they were not only married, but happily so. I got to know some of them as friends. I laughed at their jokes. We were all for the same sports teams.

The days turned into weeks. The scene in the shower after our shift was always the same. Soaping each others backs. Mild masturbation. I mean, most of them didn’t go so far as to ejaculate, but I did see that, too, from time to time. And, the occasional blow job. I saw some guys joking around about anal intercourse, but they seemed to be pretending. I never saw any kissing. The situation started to normalize. I didn’t think of any of them as gay. In a short while, I quit thinking of this shower activity as gay. It just was what it was. I didn’t participate. I kept to my corner shower, and everyone was respectful. They seemed to just know not to bother me with their silliness.

Then one day, Mikey, tall, black-bearded like a pirate, standing under the shower head next to me, and who I was starting to think of as a good friend, started soaping up the back of my neck and shoulders. At first, I didn’t really notice. When I did notice, his big warm hands felt good, but also alarming. I wanted to flinch, back away, and, I sadly admit, I wanted to yell and claim that I was not gay. I wanted that understood. Fortunately, I’m not an idiot, and kept my mouth shut. Instead, I figured, “When in Rome…” and let him keep doing that. It did feel good. He kept it up for a good two minutes, working his way down my back, and to the top of my butt. He then knelt on the floor, and soaped up my legs, both hands one each leg, in long strokes up from my ankles to my upper thighs. Damn, that felt good.

Suddenly, to my horror, I realized I had grown an erection! I wanted to run out of there. But I couldn’t. I’d have to squeeze between a couple dozen tightly spaced wet guys. And, I figured making a fuss would be more embarrassing even than my current situation.

Mikey saw it and asked very simply? “OK?” I knew what he meant, and couldn’t speak. My throat was in a knot. My body was shivering, even though the water was warm. My knees were weak. All I could do was nod.

He came around in front of me, cupping my balls in one warm paw, and stroking my soapy hard penis with the other. I came in an instant, and nearly fell over. It was one of the strongest orgasms of my life. After a moment, he quietly asked, “Are you doing OK Kent?”

I assured him that I was not only OK, but entirely blissed out. I reached over to return the favor, but Mikey backed away, saying, “No need, maybe next time.”

I had a lot to think about when I got home. My date with Emily, my new girlfriend, who also worked a late shift, but in an assembly plant, wasn’t until 6am. We were going to walk in the park together at daylight. As I reviewed what had happened, I became terribly horny, and just had to jerk off, coming a second time in a single day. Later, I had a bit of trouble getting hard for Emily. I told her what had happened in the shower, and all she said was, “I know.”

I was surprised. She said all the wives quietly tell the young women they just have to accept it. It’s part of the miner’s culture. Emily encouraged me to continue the activities with the guys, saying she wouldn’t mind, as long as I told her all about it.

There we were in bed, and I started telling her the details of what had happened, and the funny thing is, I started getting fully erect again. Emily, too, became juicy hearing the juicy details – pardon the pun.

Well, that was a year ago. Emily and I are an item. I think she may be pregnant. If she is, I will marry her. Hell, I’ll marry her either way, and I’m sure she’s in favor of that too. I’m one of the guys in the mine in every sense, participating in the showers with all the other men. I know that many people hate their work, and I probably would too, except I put in my eight hours enjoyably, just thinking about what’s going to happen at the end of almost every shift. I so look forward to it that I miss working on the weekends.

[My client, who is still working as a miner, is also studying to start his own coaching business. He let me take a picture for inclusion. The picture is the very dick that got soaped up by his coworker Mikey, and which has been the source of great joy in the group shower room on hundreds of occasions.]

Lady Mayor’s Gay Butler

I’ve always been shy. I’ve been afraid to try new experiences. And I’m gay, through and through. I knew in middle school when I’d look at the other boys in gym class. I always wished for open showers. I heard some schools had them, but in ours, each shower was a separate stall. When I realized how much I wanted to see the other guys, and didn’t care to see girls naked, I knew.

I came out to my father first. He shocked me when said, “I know.” I guess to him it had been obvious the way I looked at boys vs girls. Then I came out to my mother. she said, “I know.” Geez!

I’ve had a lot of sex with guys, but never have I had a real relationship. I mean, it’s never been like sharing an apartment with a guy. I long for that, but it simply hasn’t happened yet. Or, maybe I don’t long for it. I believe I’m keeping everyone at arms length. I think I value my independence. Anyway…

So by profession I’m a butler. My first client was very kind but very old gentleman who had done well in real estate. I was with him for six years. Our relationship was very ‘correct.’ I was his butler. That’s all. He died. I cried. I had to move on.

It turns out in this day and age, it’s hard to find work as a butler in the traditional sense. I had to expand my horizons and so I started calling myself a ‘personal assistant.’ That’s not really what I want. I like setting tables, setting out clothing, cleaning and polishing, arranging the home – you know, butlery things. A personal assistant is more about setting appointments, buying plane tickets, running errands. Still, that’s what I had to do to find work.

I got a call from the mayor who had known my old client, and had seen me at work. She wanted to interview me. I had never worked for a woman. The thought had never even crossed my mind. Normally, I would not have even considered it, but I was cutting into my savings account. I had to find work soon.

She hired me. As women go, she wasn’t bad-looking. Slim, tanned, short attractive curly hair, outgoing personality, and coincidentally, the same age as me. To my delight, even though she referred to me as her ‘personal assistant,’ I was really more her butler. I lived in a room of her house, and worked the evening hours. I did not follow her to work and have to do office things.

At home, she was the perfect lady, and of course I was the perfect gentleman. I served her well, and she expressed her appreciation, never yelling at me or being a jerk in any way. The only thing that concerned me is that sometimes she got quite personal, asking about my life, telling me about hers, as if we were supposed to be old friends or something.

One evening, she came home with a sore shoulder. It seems she had met an influential business man for tennis that afternoon, and she hasn’t played tennis in a while. I saw her favoring that shoulder, so naturally, I offered to massage it. Immediately regretting the offer. Too personal, especially since she was, well, female.

Unfortunately, she accepted. She told me to unfold the massage table that had been in the closet since before my first day of work. I set it up, and turned around, seeing Marjorie standing there topless, rubbing her shoulder with her opposite hand. Topless! She acted as if it was a normal situation.

One thing butlers do is keep their cool in all situations, so I tried to act as undisturbed as possible. She climbed on the table, and I went to work on her shoulder.

It wasn’t horrible. I kneaded for a while, she said nothing but “Ummm” a couple of times, and that was that.

A week later, the shoulder was hurting her again. The situation repeated itself. I got the table out, she got topless and hopped on. Only this time, when I thought I was about done, she rolled over, asking me whether I could continue the massage from this direction.

I tried not to stare at her tits. I don’t think I found them attractive, but my eyes kept going back to them, especially her large nipples. As I was rubbing her shoulders, both shoulders, and her neck, she said one word, “Lower.” I found myself rubbing the softer tissue at the top of her breasts. She said “Ummm” again.

“Larry, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you go lower? My breasts feel a kind of itch inside, and I think massaging would settle that.”

She was asking me to massage her breasts. Well, another thing butlers are trained to do is to understand their clients will have their own little private eccentricities, and we are supposed to accommodate to a reasonable extent. Was this unreasonable? I decided it wasn’t.

So, I started massaging her breasts. It was the first time I had touched a woman there. I was very delicate. She kept telling me to “really get in there,” to press harder. I mean, I wasn’t pressing very hard, but I had been under the impression breasts are super-sensitive for some reason.

You might wonder if it was doing anything for me. It wasn’t. There was no stirring in my pants or anything.

A week later, her shoulder was fine, but she told me the insides of her breasts were itching again. Somehow I doubted that, but I knew what she wanted. For some reason, I was happy to comply. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation.

I set up the table and when I was done, I was totally shocked to see Marjorie was standing there totally naked. Not a stitch on her! I was quite uncomfortable with the situation. As she got on the table, I went to get a sheet or a towel or something to cover her ‘down there.’ As I turned to go, she said, “Larry, don’t bother, I’m fine.”

“But, Marjorie…”

“No, it’s OK, really. As my butler, you’re bound to see me naked at times.”

That was interesting. For the first time, she had referred to me as ‘her butler,’ not her PA. That was pleasing to me. I hated being called a personal assistant, and loved being a butler.

Frankly, I didn’t like seeing her naked. It wasn’t right. But what could I do? And, was it really weird, after all? Maybe I was making too much of it.

So, I massaged her ‘itchy’ breasts. Then she asked whether I could massage her feet and her legs. I did so reluctantly. I really didn’t like touching female feet and legs.

A couple of times my eyes wandered to her crotch. I could barely make out the slit among her hair down there. I found it interesting, but not sexy in any way. After a while, she rolled over, and I massaged the back of her legs. On my own, without her asking, I started rubbing her ass cheeks. I don’t know why, but I figured she’d enjoy that. I tried to imagine that it was the ass of a small, smooth young man. I was rewarded with a big “Ummmm,” so I kept going. At one point, my hands spread her ass cheeks apart a little bit, and I got a glimpse of her puckered asshole. It seemed smaller than a man’s and more clearly defined.

That evening in bed, I jerked off as I usually do, but couldn’t get the vision of her anus out of my mind. I came quickly and big time. Weird, eh?

Over the course of a few months, the massages changed in nature. Now, she had an ‘itch’ in her vagina itself. Since I had gone too far already, I complied, learning to finger a woman’s vagina and even massaged inside her anus. And, every night I jerked off, remembering the images and feelings of fingering Marjorie to orgasm. Sometimes, I notice the remaining sweet odor on my fingers, and it would send me over the edge almost immediately.

I had the wrong idea about vaginas. I thought they were big bloody messes. Sorry, but that’s the way I felt. And, I thought that down inside they were very tight little holes. I didn’t even know that inner labia existed. I’ve learned a lot. When I saw Marjorie’s peehole for the first time, I was fascinated. It never occurred to me there might be a specific opening for that.

She didn’t cum every time. But when she did, her legs would go all jittery, she’d start moaning and she’d end up shivering all over. I have to admit that I loved that. To give that gift to another human being, male or female, is a delight for the giver as much as the getter.

When I had been doing that for about a year, she started hinting that she wanted me to be naked when I gave the massages. At first, I hinted just as strongly that there was no way I’d do that. But something inside me was rather excited. Oh hell, more than ‘rather.’ I was very excited at the idea. Still, I resisted for a month. Finally, the evening happened. At the appointed time, I came out of my room, not wearing a stitch, and feeling very funny, maybe what you’d call embarrassed about the situation. I wanted to run back into my room and put all my clothes back on. I didn’t. And I did set up the table. She gasped, looking at me with a wry smile, evidently quite pleased with what she saw. I do keep myself in shape. I was surprisingly proud of myself.

The massage started as usual. When it came to the point where I slowly introduce my finger into her anus, I was quite surprised to see I was becoming erect. I ignored my penis, and completed her massage. No doubt she saw my erection, but said nothing.

Not long after that, she wrapped her hand around my hard penis during the massage one evening. It was electrifying. I had no idea that could happen with a woman. I was thinking she might stroke my penis, and actually secretly hoping she would, but she didn’t.

On my birthday last year, she surprised me at the end of her massage by demanding I get on the table. I laid face down, scrunching my erection under my stomach. She massaged my shoulders, my arms, my legs, and finally my butt. It was delicious. Then she had me roll over. My erection was sticking straight up. I was no longer ashamed of it, or weirded out by being erect around Marjorie. It had become natural. She ignored my erection as she worked on the front of my legs, my arms and even my forehead. I have to tell you, the massage was delicious. Then, ever so gently, she started rubbing her fingertips over my nipples. I couldn’t help it, sperm just started squirting out of my penis, shooting a good foot in the air. Some even hit my chin.

It seemed wrong, and I started to apologize, but Marjorie stopped me with a big smile, saying, “I’ve wanted that to happen for a long time, Larry.”

Things have evolved. She massages me as much as I do her, yet, I’m the one getting paid. What a job! I wouldn’t trade my position for anything. And now, her treatments are always happy-ending massages, with good testicle massage thrown in. I had no idea about testicle massage. No man had ever done that for me.

So, I’ve been with her three years now and I have to say I get a real delight out of our massages. Oh, I’m still gay, and I still haven’t had a full-on, live-in relationship with a guy, but it’ll happen someday. I haven’t actually been with a guy at all, even for a bit of a blowjob or anything for over a year, and oddly I don’t really miss it.

Weird Double Massage

Weird Double Massage

Every Thursday morning at 10am, I go to this woman. It started when my wife just lost interest in sex after our second child. I don’t know why. She’s too young for menopause. She just doesn’t enjoy sex anymore. Can you believe it?

She tried to please me anyway, and so started giving me handjobs nearly every night. But she was usually tired, and the handjobs were weak and didn’t last long. I mostly didn’t cum, so I’d have to rub myself to orgasm as she was falling asleep.

Needless to say, it wasn’t very satisfying. I was complaining about it to a guy at work who recommended I see his ‘massage therapist.’

“I don’t need any stupid massage therapist,” I blurted out in frustration.

“Oh, she’s much more than that.” he quietly retorted.

Like an idiot, I booked a session without knowing anything about her. I arrived at her very nice 3,000 square foot home and was led to a back bedroom by an adolescent boy.

“Zacky, where are your manners? Offer the man a drink,” the just starting to turn gray-haired mother told the boy.

“He said, would you like a Coke, water, coffee or tea?”

“Ah, no thanks.”

“That’s my son. He’s home from school today. Some sort of teacher’s conference.”

The boy left, and I didn’t see him again.

“I’m Marie,” she said, followed almost immediately by “Take your clothes off.”

She locked the door, explaining that we wouldn’t want her kids barging in. “They know what goes on in here, but still, they don’t always respect limits. They think everything’s an emergency, requiring my immediate attention.” She and I both laughed. Me, a bit nervously.

Marie wasn’t fat, and she wasn’t tall, but tending to both attributes. She had a sweet face, but I could tell she also had a non-nonsense commanding presence.

I’ve had a few massages in my life, so I had no trouble disrobing in front of her. Well, maybe a little trouble. I am kind of a private guy. The funny thing is the practitioners usually leave the room while a person disrobes. She just stood there making a bit of small talk about her two children, and asking me about mine.

She had me hop on her table, face down. The massage began, and she was good. Not great, and so I had no inkling as to why my co-worker thought she was more than a typical massage therapist.

It was interesting that she didn’t drape me. I rather liked that. It seems like an unnecessary inconvenience.

As she was working around my butt, she kept just brushing against the back of my scrotum, which was surprisingly delicious.

After only five minutes of rubbing the back of my legs, arms, neck, back and butt, she had me roll over. My penis was slightly hard, but I figured she’s seen that before. In fact, even though it’s just an ordinary six-incher, I was somehow proud for her to see it.

She did more than see it. She grabbed it. Firmly. I was like “Woah.” but didn’t actually say anything, as she started working it like modeling clay. Unlike modeling clay that gets soft when you work with it, my cock hardened fully in her hands within a minute.

Then she went to work on my balls. First, massaging them gently, then working up into a very firm massage. It was starting to hurt. I was kind of moaning, and it was almost turning into yelling.

“Too much?” she asked.

“Um, yeah,” I answered.

“Too bad,” she replied with a small wicked laugh.

She continued squishing my balls back and forth in my scrotum between her fingertips like wet bars of soap.

“If it gets to be too much, use the safeword. The safeword is ‘spaghetti.’ But don’t use it lightly. If you say it, the massage ends, right then and there. Understood?”

She worked in silence for the next few minutes, continuing to squeeze my balls really hard. Oh, it hurt, but at the same time, in a way I can’t explain, I was loving it. I kind of wanted to see how much I could take. Plus it was really turning me on. I knew she couldn’t harm me. Balls are tough, like chicken gizzards. They don’t burst or anything, at least not just with finger pressure.

Finally, she let go. But that was just the beginning. She grabbed my extremely erect penis with one hand, and started rubbing the oiled palm of her other hand over the tip. Slowly, and firmly. I was immediately squirming. If you’ve never had that done, you need to get someone to do it to you. It’s an amazing tickle, something you really have to get away from, but delightful at the same time.

Evidently I was squirming too much, because she stopped, came up with these velvet rope like things, and tied my wrists and ankles to the table. She asked with her eyes whether it was OK, and I just nodded my head. I didn’t know this woman, but I did trust her.

She resumed the glans rubbing, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, over and over again.

I felt myself release an involuntary bit of pee. She said “That happens sometimes.”

The thought of what I just did, of how it was involuntary was too much. I was in such an unusual sexual situation that I lost control and started cumming right in her hands. It was one of the strongest ejaculations I’ve ever had.

Any normal person would just stop at that point, knowing that when a guy is done, he’s done. She kept going, and I discovered the squirming I had been doing was only ten percent of the squirming I was doing now. And yelling, laughing, and just going crazy. I kept thinking one thing: There was no way I was going to say ‘spaghetti.’ But, I did. And just as Marie promised, the massage ended immediately.

That was my first session. I’m wealthy enough to afford $100 every week, so I just told her to block out every Thursday morning for me.

After a few weeks, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret from my wife. The way I introduced it was a bit underhanded. I told her one evening after one of her less-than-ideal handjobs, that it wasn’t satisfying me, and if she wasn’t going to be more involved sexually, I’d find an outside outlet. I went on to assure her that I wouldn’t fuck anyone, it’s just that I’d find a happy ending massage practitioner or something. Of course, I had already found that practitioner and had been seeing her for weeks.

My wife cried, she carried on, but in the end, she relented. I think she knew sex of some sort was so important to me that it would be necessary to save our marriage. Not that we were in any real trouble. I love her with all my heart and will always take care of her.

After the next session, my wife wanted a blow-by-blow description. I could see she was starting to get horny, which had become quite unusual for her. I suggested we go to bed, even though I was quite satisfied at the moment. Still, I didn’t want to miss out on any possible opportunity to have real sex again. But no, she wasn’t sufficiently horned up for that.

Now, on Thursday mornings, I leave my home office with my wife’s blessing. I think she knows Marie is taking the pressure off her for my sexual outlet.

I arrived last week to a total surprise. Marie greeted me at the door, and introduced me to Hank, her husband as we walked through her large living room. I never even thought about her personal life. Of course there’d be a man in it, she had kids after all. I probably assumed she was divorced.

Hank is a tall, and strongly-built man with graying hair on the slightly long side. Maybe he’s graying prematurely or maybe he’s older than he looks. He has a kind of boyish, well-tanned face. He is a contractor who still does most of his own framing carpentry. He’s home a lot during the winter months.

Marie asked whether I’d like a massage from her, or from Hank. I was shocked. She explained that many of her clients like getting their massages from her husband, and that he enjoys giving the massages from time to time. Internally, I was like “No way.” But was I really? I was immediately attracted to the strangeness of the situation. The naughtiness. The idea of a man handling my junk. That hadn’t happened since my adolescent years, and even then, it was another boy, not a man. I felt my dick stirring in my pants. Yes, this was an experience I had to try. Hank was smiling at me. I smiled back.

I was rather nervous as I took my clothes off. I mean, he was a big guy, he might squeeze my balls too hard or something. He went to work, and I was actually shivering with fear. Or maybe it was anticipation, or delight. I don’t know. He started out more gently than his wife. But he did get pretty intense. Oh, nothing horrible, but it did get me orgasmic pretty quickly. I was worried that I’d cum too soon, and things would be over.

Just as I reached the point of no return, he stopped. He just let go of my penis. It was too late. The pumping feeling started up, and after a moment, as I was looking down at my rock-hard cock laying against my stomach, a drop of white cum came out. But only one drop. That was weird.

Hank picked up my penis, and went back to work. He wasn’t glans-rubbing me like his wife normally does. He was doing a whole bunch of other things, like pulling hard on my frenulum. Really hard. Again, the contractions started, and again, he let go. The orgasm was building slowly. My penis pulsed several times, and a couple more drops of cum came out. Again he went back to work. All in all, I came three times. The last was a crashing super-orgasm in which I released all the rest of my cum. Afterward, he kept going. He was basically jerking me off after I had fully come. I could hardly stand it, but was reluctant to say the safeword. I never wanted this to end, yet I did go through that change in which one wants it to end. My silly penis stayed erect, which used to never happen to me after cumming. I was squirming way too much, actually hurting my arms, so finally I said “spaghetti.”

Marie and Hank have asked whether I’d like a double-session. Not one twice as long. I don’t think I could handle that. They want to work on me together. She told me that while’s he’s working me on the outside, she’ll be working me on the inside. I don’t know what it means, but I’m really looking forward to finding out. The price will be twice as high, but I’m sure it will be worth it.

Masturbate-A-Thon, Another Perspective

A Detailed Report on the Masturbate-A-Thon

I attended the annual Masturbate-A-Thon in San Francisco. I went three years running. Every year was better than the last. I considered it the world’s greatest sex party. This was my first year. About 120 people showed up, 70% male, 30% female. The idea was to wank for charity. Like a walk-a-thon, friends, family and coworkers pledged. But pledges weren’t amounts of money for miles covered. It was for minutes masturbated, or in a few cases, for number of orgasms.

I had to overcome some serious shyness to ask friends and coworkers, “Hey, I’m going to the Masturbate-A-Thon, do you want to pledge some money?” Surprisingly, eight of them did pledge. They were all quite supportive. I expected some would be shocked, maybe even giving me religious anti-masturbation lectures or something. But no, none of that. I invited all them to attend with me, but none did.

I invited my wife, and she said “OK.” But then day before the event was to take place, she backed out, and was mad at me because I still wanted to attend. I was sad she wouldn’t be there with me, but wouldn’t have missed it for the world!

I showed up an hour early and volunteered to help out. I helped a guy move hand trucks full of snacks and soda, I ran a floor sweeper and things like that. A couple of the volunteers were naked. Most were clothed. I took my clothes off, felt silly, then put them back on. One guy, a fellow I’ve mentioned in other articles here on Sex270, was not only naked, but sporting a boner, as he climbed up a ladder to run a video cable to the stage area.

Oh, yes, people who signed a waiver and got a purple wrist band would be videoed if they so chose. The video was a live internet feed, and a downloadable video would follow. At one point, to my total surprise, I found myself on that stage getting a handjob from none other than Nina Hartley, one of the world’s greatest porn stars, while clothed technicians with big handheld video cameras were filming me, sometimes quite close. That ended all too soon. (No, I didn’t cum in her hands.)

Nina Hartley attended the Masturbate-A-Thon
Nina Hartley

All in all, it was a spectacular party. It wasn’t just that over a hundred strangers got naked together and jerked off, most managing to edge, to hold it in, for hours. It was much more too. It was great conversation and companionship.

I want to tell you the most erotic part of the whole thing, what I remember most, and what makes me most horny when I look back on it, even to this day. And, it isn’t anything you probably would have guessed. The thing that I really remember is that once, during our allotted 5-minute break every hour, I had to go pee. I had to walk through a narrow hallway that was crowded with an assortment of clothed people. There were San Francisco dignitaries, news people, and others. Some were coming from or going to the viewing gallery, where some people had paid $40 per head not to participate, but only to watch. Go figure!

So, squeezing stark naked through the crowded hallway, with my boner sticking out at a strong right angle, I was like ‘excuse me, excuse me.’ At one point, I turned sort of sideways, and slipped past an elegant youngish woman dressed in a business suit and high heels. As I passed, my penis brushed against her hip. I quietly said, “Sorry,” and she just smiled.

So that’s the thing. The whole giant party was spectacular, with all tons of jerking off, all sorts of female and male people to watch, to talk with, and who were watching me as we all wanked together. But that momentary little brush against the woman’s hip is the thing that really gets me, even to this day.

By the way, the longest participant set a Guinness world record that day, lasting eight hours and 43 minutes. I was the third longest at 8:20. I don’t know how I lasted that long, but I did, and it was glorious all the way through. I actually quit, letting myself cum with a huge ejaculation, at 8:20 because I was afraid of actually being the ‘winner.’ I didn’t think I would want that publicity.

You’d think I’d be sore, maybe tired the next day, but no, I jerked off a couple of times the next day, just remembering what had happened.

36-Inch Flexible Dildo

36-inch dildo pressed into friend's anus

I have a friend that I play with from time to time. We usually just jerk each other off, but he does like anal play – a lot. I on the other hand, am not much into anal at all. Or, I should say I don’t like things stuck in me. But I do enjoy sticking things in my wife, and in my occasional male friends.

Usually, he likes ordinary dildos and things a few inches long. We have also experimented with fisting, and on a couple of occasions, I have gotten my whole hand into his rectum. He wants me to go farther, but I find he has a restriction about ten inches (25cm) in that I cannot get past.

One day, he showed me his new 36-inch (90cm) flexible rubber dildo. To give you some perspective, a typical man’s pants are only 31 inches in length.

He wanted me to put that in him. I was skeptical, and worried about physical injury. Still, he wanted it.

Se I lubed him and his dildo and went to work. He laid on his back with his knees up, and I started pushing it in. At about a third of the way, it was going nicely. At two-thirds, he had me stop a couple of times. He said it didn’t hurt, but he had to get used to the feeling. I resumed. It seemed stuck. I pulled back a little bit, then pushed forward again. It continued to enter him. There’s no doubt it was well into his transverse colon.

We kept playing, and finally, I was holding the last two inches (5cm). All the rest was in his large intestine.

He couldn’t see what I was doing, so he asked, and I told him how far it was in. That excited him. His penis, which had been semi-hard the whole time became like a flagpole. He wanted me to push in further. All the way in. I thought that was irresponsible. Like, what if he couldn’t push it back out? Something short in the rectum can be pushed out, but that long? I had my doubts. But I was willing to go another inch. I believe the far end was right up against his appendix, because that last inch was impossible.

He said he wasn’t feeling any pain, but his physiology told me otherwise. He was kind of wincing. So, ever so slowly, I pulled the whole thing out. As I was doing so, he rubbed his own penis to a fantastic orgasm.

In fairness to you, dear reader, I should point out that a year later this fellow was hospitalized for a serious intestinal problem having to do with an overzealous enema. So, it turns out there are limits to sexual play that should be regarded. Over the years, I have found many ways to have fantastic orgasms without taking any health risks.

Like Shaolins

I attend a dojo where I’m learning to be a protector. I’d like to be strong, and able to defuse any altercation, even if my physical participation is required.

Fortunately our sensei, our instructor, is like-minded. He strongly believes in violence only in defense, never in offense.

To that end, we work not only on physical feats that would help us in a fight, but also NVC – Non-Violent Communication. Sensei is also very open-minded, always willing to explore new techniques.

Our dojo is in an old school building. Some of the other classrooms used to be for other adult education, such as pottery making and GED. These days, the only tenant left in the building is our dojo. We have the whole building to ourselves including the gym and showers.

It started before I came to the school. What I’m talking about is that after our sessions, we all shower together. We’ve all become good friends and so the communal showers are wonderful. They’re freeing. So much so that some of us will masturbate while sitting on the benches in the locker room and conversing.

I was delightfully shocked when I first saw it. In my first couple of weeks there, I was hanging out in the locker room, naked like the other guys. I had already learned that it was OK to be erect among the sensei and the other students, since I had seen several of them in that state. But on that day, I was talking with George about motorcycles or something, and as he was sitting there, he started idly stroking his erection. Right in front of me and the other people there!

Pretty soon, he drifted out of the conversation, in his own little world, and as the others of us continued our conversations, he tightened up, grunted, and sprayed sperm on the floor. The other guys didn’t pay any attention at all, other than a smile or two in George’s direction.

It took months before I was comfortable doing what George did in the locker room. But, once I finally felt free enough to do so, I was doing it all the time, and even did a bit of mutual jacking with some of the guys.

Sensei showed us YouTube videos from time to time of Shaolin monks and others who we aspired to emulate. One time, he showed us a video that included the monks hitting each other in the balls to toughen up that vulnerable area.

We discussed it a little in class, but later in the shower, we all discussed it in more detail. We decided that might be a good idea. All of us naked guys started playfully punching and lightly kicking each other in the balls. We got a little bolder, and started hitting each others balls harder until it started to hurt. A great time was had by all, and most of use were erect. Needless to say, all of us sat on the benches and had a nice circle jerk to end the evening. We repeated variations of this on many occasions. No one seems to have developed any more resistance to ball busting except for Sensei. I don’t know how he does it, but we can hit him in the balls pretty damn hard, and he doesn’t even wince.

Someone came up with the crazy idea of glans rubbing. Based on a Japanese technique called kitohzeme, also known as ‘apple polishing,’ we decided that the ability to withstand great discomfort is good for us.

To work on this technique, we have an old massage table in the locker room. We’ll take turns getting on the table, and being rubbed by another member of the group. The basic idea is that the guy on the table will be made erect. Then, oil is applied to the tip of his penis. The oil is also applied to the palm of one of the hands of the person who is going to administer the treatment. The administrator then wraps the fingers of one hand around the shaft of the recipient’s penis, and rubs that oiled palm over the tip of his penis.

If you’ve never had that done, you’re in for a real treat. Or, maybe it’s not a treat. It all depends on your perspective. It’s a crazy, horrible tickle sort of feeling. The man receiving the treatment will squirm and yell, and try to get away. Therefore, others in the group surround the massage table and hold him down.

At first, we used safewords. If a guy felt it was just too much, he could say ‘stop’ or something, to end the torment. Then, we decided since there’s no physical danger – you can’t get damaged, that we’d put an end to the use of safewords.

Well, there is one danger. One must use sufficient oil to avoid chaffing the glans. That’s sort of like sunburn. It can take a few days to heal. But with sufficient lubrication, it could potentially last all day without any harm whatsoever.

So anyway, we’ve taken to doing this to each other. Eventually, the torturous nature of the treatment changes into something more calm. After three or four minutes, it starts to feel really, really nice. It’s kind of a combination of a tickle, a gotta pee feeling, and a gonna cum feeling, but generally, we don’t ejaculate or urinate.

We have all done it at times, and we have all received it. Some are better at withstanding this torment than others.

However, I’ve seen all sorts of outcomes. Some guys will suddenly, involuntarily release urine. Some will cum. Most will stay dry, so to speak, but will endure the effect only with lots of yelling, laughing and carrying on. A few, like Sensei, and I’m proud to say, myself, can take it in total silence. Oh, sure we twist hard against the people holding us down, and we wince, making all sorts of interesting faces, but he and I can stay silent.

A few months ago, two college women wanted to join our dojo. The two of them were recently written up in our city newspaper for having apprehended a man who assaulted another man and stole his money. Evidently, without knowing any self-defense techniques, they managed to kick the shit out of the robber.

We discussed admitting them to the dojo with Sensei, and mutually decided that it would be sexist and just plain mean not to let them join. Besides, they were our kind of people: Protectors.

The issue, the elephant in the room, was what to do about our locker room situation. I swear, more good things came from the hour in the locker room after class than during class itself.

Sensei decided to take the matter head on. He informed the two women exactly what we do after class, and let them know they were invited. He also instructed all of us that nothing overtly sexual should happen. No one was to penetrate anyone’s anything with the exception of fingers. Those, we could put anywhere, with the recipients’ permission. It was good he had mentioned penetration, because there had been some joking and kidding around about anal sex, and no doubt it might have started happening among us guys if not regulated.

To my absolute delight, the two young women joined us young guys in our locker room activities. And, they fit right in! Whereas we guys were experimenting with ballbusting, the girls found that being kicked in the vagina was in ways similar. Just like with us guys, it was more play kicking. No one really hurt another guy’s balls, and of course we were gentle with the women. Too gentle. It took a little demonstration of one woman walloping the other really quite strongly for us to understand that we weren’t really hurting them.

As to the glans rubbing, the girls loved doing it to us. On the other hand, we’re still working on ways to give them something similar to ‘enjoy.’ So far, we’ve figured out that vaginal and anal stretching can have the desired effect. Now, us guys are stretching each other’s assholes as well with various numbers of fingers being inserted. That’s interesting, but not the same as glans rubbing. When done just right, rubbing a clitoris with fingertips seems to be somewhat similar. Another technique that seems to work is to put two fingers in a girl’s vagina, curl them forward, and rub the front wall fairly firmly. The problem is this rubs their g-spots, and so rather than being particularly hard to take, at least beyond the first minute, it gives them orgasms, and they just love it.

We’re just now figuring out something new. The girls helped us to come to this understanding. As you know, once a guy cums, his mood changes, and he’s all done. It’s the same with some, but not all, women. Therefore, post-orgasm stimulation can be very hard to take. You guessed it, we’re now learning to be strong when presented with post-orgasm stimulation.

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